


Trying to Find You

by adare1005



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, Hurt Peter Parker, No Beta, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, We Die Like Men, baby's first fic, don't know how to tag, no one asked for this, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:22:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adare1005/pseuds/adare1005
Summary: The Anastasia (dreamworks movie) AU of the MCU that no one (literally no one asked for). I'm sorry that I felt the need to make this.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**_Before_ **

_ Exhaustion.  _ That’s the first thing that Peter feels as Mr. Stark drags him along the icy path. Usually Peter could easily overtake Tony, but he’s distracted. He’s distracted by a number of things. The chill of New York in the winter for one, is seeping into his very being since he can’t thermoregulate and the heater in his suit is broken. His suit is also fairly distracting as it has no mask happens to be tatters due to the gaping wounds. That was probably the most distracting, since he was bleeding sluggishly from multiple slashes up and down his body that he got in the battle.

_ Fear _ . That’s the second thing Peter feels as a shiver works its way down his spine and he can feel the hairs on his arms stand up. Peter looks up at Mr. Stark to tell him that somethings wrong when they hear it. Laughing, almost like a chuckle that someone has when they read something funny online to themselves and it’s not worth an actual laugh.

“Stark. You can’t run from this. This is inevitable just like the deaths of your comrades in battle.” Thanos intones from somewhere behind them. If it was possible, Mr. Stark grips Peter harder as they clunkily run through the streets of the city.

Tony looks down at him and huffs, “C’mon Pete, we just have to get to the quinjet and we’re home free. It’s only a bit farther and then we’ll get you fixed up.” But Peter knows they’re doomed. Thanos has 5 of the stones, he’s more powerful than any being they know right now and he will stop at nothing to get the soul stone that’s gripped in Tony’s other hand. Nonetheless, Peter grunts and starts running faster and soon he’s pulling Tony along. He looks back past Tony and what little armor he has left to see Thanos getting closer and closer.

_ Hope _ . That’s the next thing Peter feels as he sees what looks like a shooting star fly into Thanos, halting him from his pursuit. The power that radiates off the figure as it battles Thanos for dominance can only mean one thing.

“Carol’s here, Mr. Stark. We ha-have a ch-chance.” Peter stutters. They can see the quinjet in the distance now. They can do it and Peter’s heart swells. It quickly falls again when he hears the cacophony behind him and knows that Thanos’ army of alien monsters is now on their trail. The next few minutes are filled with labored breathing and their footfalls side by side. The quinjet sits just ahead of them hovering a bit off the ground ready to jet off at a moment’s notice.

Shivers begin running up and down Peter’s entire body and on instinct he grips Mr. Stark with both hands before shoving him with all his might into the quinjet’s open doors. The jet, feeling the weight of someone onboard begins to rise due to a preprogrammed code. Peter then leaps for the doorway, which is still open as Mr. Stark tries to shake off the impact he had from hitting the ground Peter threw him onto. Peter’s fingers touch the bottom of the doorway, but that’s all he needs and he sticks. The jet keeps rising at a quick pace and Peter grins as he starts to pull himself up to relative safety. 

Mr. Stark finally pulls himself together as he looks over at Peter to help him and screams, “NO!” and then the weight of one of those monsters crashes into Peter. The weight quickly drags him back down to the precarious position of fingers skimming the edge of the jet. The jet finally finished its ascent at this same time and accelerates to at least 5G’s towards its destination at the same time because Parker Luck TM . Tony starts grabbing at Peter’s hands as if that would help while the monster tears into his calf and Peter lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Mr. Stark. Get r-rid of that-t stone.” Peter grunts out with tears in his eyes as he looks into the frantic face of his father figure.

“No. No. Pete you--this better--you better not do what I think you’re thinking. We’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna fix you up and get rid of this stone then take a nice long vacation. Then--then you’re gonna move in with me. You and your weirdly hot aunt both. You’re my kid Peter and we’re gonna be okay.” Tony states with stone in his voice, leaving no room for discussion. And it’s nice to believe, but Peter knows that it won’t work out this way. He’s bleeding too much already to fight this thing off especially with a broken web shooter and if it gets into the jet, it’ll just kill them both as Tony’s suit is useless. The stone will then find its way into the wrong hands and the universe will face the consequences of Peter’s actions. Just because he wanted a few more seconds. Just a few more moments. Peter can feel the monster on his legs start working its way up his body, tearing him apart the whole way up.

Peter looks into Tony’s eyes, one last time, smiles softly and whispers, “Love you.” before releasing his grip on the jet and twisting his arms out of Tony’s weak grasp. Mr. Starks screams quickly get drowned out as he gets farther away with the speed of the jet and wind singing in Peter’s ears.

The monster, which released Peter in surprise when they began to fall, is falling faster than he is so Peter is blissfully alone and aware of what is going to happen. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine the world and people he sacrificed himself for, hoping for some sense of worth and calm as his death looms on the horizon. 

He thinks of his classmates, of the people he’s saved as Spider-Man, of Ned, of MJ, of Tony, of May, of his parents and of Uncle Ben. They’d be proud he thinks. 

_ Relief.  _ That’s the last thing he feels as the ground rushes up to meet him.


	2. Have you heard?

**5 years later**

_**Somewhere in New York** _

Philip exhales before gripping the handle of the door in front of him and plastering a fake smile on his face.

“Susan! How are you doing? How’s the kids?” Philip shifts from foot to foot as soon as he’s inside the room. The object of his questions, Susan, does not look amused.

“Philip. We’re all good, but how about you take a seat and lets talk about your future. I heard that you declined a job offer from Chevron.” Her tone can only be described as exasperated as she opens the file that contains the entirety of Philip’s whole life, which isn’t much. Philip awkwardly pulls out a chair in front of her desk, shrugs off his jacket and starts looking at anything that isn’t the knowing face of his social worker. 

“Oh. That. Yeah, I just think that I’m meant to do something else with my life, y’now? Gas and energy doesn’t really seem right.” He admits while fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist. 

“Philip. We talked about this. You’ve declined 3 other jobs besides this one that are all completely different. From labs to business to engineering. What’s really going on? Usually, at this point, most social workers remove themselves from the case as soon as the kid in question can support themselves. You graduated high school, graduated from NYU early with a double major, but you still aren’t supporting yourself even though you have the ability. I’m just confused, help me understand.” Susan implores, with actual feeling seeping into her voice. Philip starts feeling guilt settle on his shoulders as he thinks about what she’s saying, because everything Susan’s saying is right and he knows she actually cares about him as a person and not just as a case file to be put away. He should be okay at this point. He shouldn’t be causing her any more work than she already has. He should be out in the world, another one of her success stories with their only point of contact being new Facebook statuses. But for some reason Philip just can’t do what he’s meant to. He can’t let go of his past…or lack thereof.

Philip runs a hand through his brown curls, registering that he should get a haircut soon, before responding, “I don’t know. I’m sorry that you still have to deal with me. I-I don’t know why I said no to those job offers. They just don’t feel right to me. I feel like there’s something and maybe even some people that I’m supposed to find. I know that doesn’t make sense. I know that the therapist you had me see after the accident helped me see that my future can’t be dictated by the past that I don’t remember. I understand that, I swear. But that doesn’t change the fact that my very  _ atoms  _ feel wrong with every single one of these job offers and the idea of just forgetting to worry about where I came from.” He takes a breath after finally saying what he’s been feeling for the past few months. Susan just looks at him with pity while absorbing what he said and he needs to look away. His jaw clenches with the thought of being pitied.

Susan reaches across the table to stop his hands from fiddling with his bracelet. “Philip. I understand. I may not have had this same experience, but no one expects you to just give up on finding your past. I know that you are constantly trying to figure out who you were. You may not know, but I understand why you ended up double majoring in mechanical engineering and biochemistry. You did it because they both felt familiar to you.” She pauses for a second, waiting for Philip to finally look at her. “But, there’s no telling when you’re going to find a job that ‘feels’ right to you. For now, you need to focus on your present, or you’re never gonna be happy. I’m not telling you to give up, but I’m asking you to give this ‘you’ a chance. Does that make sense?” She rubs her thumb in comforting circles on the back of Philip’s hand. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing.

He tries to focus on his future. He tries to focus his happiness. He tries not to focus on the fact he remembers nothing until he woke up in a hospital bed when he was 17. He tries not to focus on how he got in such a bad accident that he not only lost his memory, but almost lost his life. He tries to not focus on the little piece of metal that is the only thing that links him to his past. That piece of metal that was carefully crafted and has the two letters ‘P. P.’ inscribed on the underside. The piece of metal that he made into a bracelet with a chain so he could keep it with him at all times. He tries no to focus on it or feel it. He tries not to focus on the fact that he has more questions than answers. He tries to focus on the air he takes into his lungs and the carbon dioxide he releases.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He says with his eyes still closed. Susan removes her hand from Philip’s and starts typing on her computer.

“I want you to try out a few other job interviews and maybe one of those will feel closer to what you’re trying to find. I figure that since you’ve already tried out science, engineering, and business that you might want to look into giving back instead since you always loved community service. I actually know of an opening in AmeriCorps and my friend who works there is willing to give you an interview tomorrow. Does that sound like something you’re willing to try?” Susan asks while she types on her computer at a furious speed. 

Philip takes a minute to actually consider what she is offering. He has always had a penchant for doing community service whether it be cleaning trash, helping in senior homes, volunteering at hospitals, or anything. He thinks that helping others does feel like, well maybe not a step, but a tiny shuffle in the right direction. 

“That sounds great. I’d love to see this field and actually even give it a chance.” He smiles while bouncing his leg up and down as a way to get out the excess energy he now feels. She smiles back at him before printing something.

“I’m glad to hear it, Philip. Here’s the address and instructions for getting to the interview. I expect an update on it tomorrow from you, young man.” She hands him the paper that might be his future or might be another mistake.

They say their goodbyes and Philip shrugs on his jacket as he makes his way back onto the streets of New York. He’s walking fast and knows he needs to go on a run tonight to try and burn off the energy he feels. He almost wants to sprint to his apartment now, but it would not only attract weird looks from others since he’s definitely not wearing workout clothes, but it would possibly betray his secret of being a mutant. He can only work out in the middle of the night of his apartment complex when no one is around because of his abnormal strength, speed, and endurance. Another part of himself from his past that he wishes he knew more about. He is so caught up on his speed walking and contemplating his weird DNA that he almost runs into a New Yorker trying to sell newspapers.

“Oh sorry, I’m not really thinking straight right now. I’m kind of--” Philip trails off when he reads the title of the newspaper that’s being sold. The front page declares in great, big bold font ‘ **Tony Stark Offers Reward for the Identification of His Old Intern.** ’ Philip’s attention goes straight to the article, just like how any news on Tony Stark draws him in for no reason. He doesn’t even notice that the newspaper seller is saying something to him. “I’m sorry, again, but I’d love to buy this as an apology.” Philip cuts him off. He then pockets the article as he pays, what’s probably too much, for the paper before resuming his walk back to his apartment building. The interview tomorrow is completely forgotten as the article takes priority. What could be so special about some intern?

  
  


_**Elsewhere in New York** _

Harley practically races to the cafe. He hasn’t been this excited in years and his fingers are itching to fiddle with something. He grips the paper in his hands tighter as a compromise while shoving his way through the daily New York foot traffic. He finally gets to ‘Everyman Espresso’ and shoulders his way inside. He pulls off his beanie, despite knowing that it was the only thing taming his blonde locks. His eyes scan the room until falling on a big man that just looks tired. Harley’s grin expands and he plops himself in the seat across from him.

“Heya Happy, how’s it hanging?” Harley makes a grab for the coffee in front of Happy, but Happy knows him too well at this point and lifts it from the table.

“If you want coffee, get your own, you gremlin. And you know how it’s going. Tony’s still stuck in the past and is grasping at straws at this point, but I can’t do jack shit about it since he cut me out of his life years ago!” Happy huffs and if it were possible, he looks even more tired. Harley’s grin falters a bit as he looks at the man, before he slams the paper on the table in front of them so they can both clearly see the article on the front page.

“What if I told you that I had a solution to both our problems? Imagine if we could get you back into Stark’s good graces and I finally had enough money to support my family. We could finally get out of this crappy hole we call our lives right now. What if there was a way that would help us to get to the futures we are meant to have?” Harley’s eyes sparkle as he imagines this beautiful future and his fingers restlessly tap on the table in the cafe.

“What are you talking about? This shit right here” he gestures to the paper, “is why I’m upset.” Happy questions and his brows come together in his confusion. Harley just sits there silently, waiting for Happy to understand, as he smirks at him from across the table. He watches Happy’s face shift from confusion, to understanding, to disbelief, before finally settling on a simmering anger. “Are you kidding me kid? We’re not gonna find Peter. He’s dead. Please don’t be going crazy. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Now Happy, we’re not positive he’s dead. No body was ever found. And I’m not saying we’ll find Peter, but if we find someone that’s close, we could help them out and take them to Stark. Who knows? Maybe the guy we find is actually the little spider and we get the reward. Worst case scenario, it’s not, but you get the chance to see Stark again and I have the chance to see genuine Wakandan tech.” Harley whispers to the larger man while laying out his idea.

“This isn’t a joke! I actually knew the pipsqueak and this is just spitting on his memory. I won’t be a part of this” Happy seethes.

“Woah woah woah. Again, I’m not saying we outright lie or con anyone. I’m just saying that maybe we find a kid that’s similar to Pete. We dress him up, help him understand who Pete is, bring him to Stark and just see what happens. If it’s not him, then no sweat. You prove to Stark you still care and I get a trip to Wakanda. But, if it just so happens to be him, then I get money to support my ma and sis, you get to be friends with Stark again, and Stark gets his kid back so he can stop grieving.” Harley holds his hands out placatingly. He needs Happy on this or nothing will pan out. He holds his breath as Happy contemplates everything. 

Happy puts his head in his hands before murmuring, “How do you propose we go about this. We can’t just pick up a random kid off the street.” and Harley finally exhales. His smile returns to his face and he leans back in his chair.

“Of course not. I was thinking about holding an audition if you will. We just put it out there that we’re looking for a guy who’s 22, caucasian, brunette, brown eyes, and is looking for a family. I’m sure that out of the thousands of people in New York, we’ll find someone close enough.” Harley already starts mentally scheduling the auditions out in his head and thinks of where he’ll put out such a casting call.

“We can’t just hold auditions for this! This is a real kid we’re trying to find and it’s cruel to everyone involved!” Happy bites out as he clenches his fists.

“It’s not like that Happy! Lets just see what happens. Remember the end goal? You getting to see Stark and maybe knock some sense into his head?” Harley pleads. He glances around to make sure no one is listening in.

“Fine. Lets say I’m on board hypothetically. How would we even get a foot in the door? We can’t just rely on our old connections to Tony, he’ll see right through us. You also know we have to get through Rhodey first, right?” Happy starts rubbing at his face and downs the rest of his coffee in one gulp.

“I know exactly how to get a foot in the door. Once Tony sees this, he’ll be sold and has to give us a chance. We’ll just have to get through Rhodey by teaching the kid we find.” And Harley draws something out of his pocket before putting it on the table. He watches Happy’s eyes widen when he sees it and hears an intake of his breath.

“How did you get this? His suit was with him when he disappeared.” Happy gently grabs the web shooter off the table and examines it as if it were some fragile piece of glass that would shatter with just glance instead of the durable technology Harley knows it to be.

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that this will get us further than anyone else and will definitely get us in the door with Stark.” Harley snatches back the item in question and puts it back in his pocket for safekeeping. “So what do you say? Are we doing this thing? I think it’s time we live the lives we’re supposed to.” He drawls, letting his southern dialect seep into his voice. He stares as Happy considers his plan for what feels like years. He wants to stand up and shake the man just to get some sort of answer from him, but he knows that this is an answer that he can’t force and has to wait for.

“How do we start?” Happy asks simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #expositioncity


	3. Like a memory of a dream

**On the Streets of New York**

Philip weaves his way through the streets of New York City, trying to figure out where this random interview is, when a shoulder clips him and he stumbles to the ground. The person starts apologizing, but Philip brushes them off as soon as he sees that the guy is wearing a “I <3 NYC” sweatshirt. Tourists just don’t know how to maneuver the city, which is fine, but is pretty annoying because now Philip’s one nice-ish sweater is torn on the left sleeve. He internally sighs and sends up a prayer that the interviewer won’t notice. Now that Philip is getting to his feet and looking around he notices that he’s in the heart of Manhattan, which is weird--he never comes over to this area of the city if he can help it. 

He picks up his crappy phone to see where the GPS is taking him next and he almost groans out loud when he realizes he still has another 15 minutes to walk to get to his interview. He glances up again, to start on his way, when he sees a building down the opposite block. Philip’s eyes are always drawn to it when he is in Manhattan and he can’t believe that he didn’t notice how close he was to the abandoned Stark Tower. People around him are grumbling as he stands in the middle of the sidewalk, but Philip can’t help himself. He looks back down at his phone and glances at the time. He really needs to get going so he isn’t late for his interview.

The interview he doesn’t even want to go to. Where the rest of his life will start presumably. Where he’ll ignore everything that happened to him and his lack of memory until it doesn’t even bother him anymore. Where he’ll finally be a successful case in Susan’s book and he’ll finally move out of his crappy apartment with even crappier roommates. 

His fingers unconsciously start fiddling with his bracelet under his sweater as he thinks about the fact he’s about to jump onto a train set to go towards the rest of his life, a train he doesn’t even want to be on. He looks again at Stark Tower. Why does he feel so drawn to it? Why does he feel this pit in the base of his stomach just thinking about getting closer? He just wishes that there was a sign that he should get on with it and head in the direction of his interview. Without thinking, he takes a step towards the direction of the abandoned building and all the hairs on his arms stand up on end. 

He looks around and doesn’t see anything dangerous around him.

“What...but why?” He breathes. He takes another step towards the tower and the feeling he dubs as his ‘sixth sense’ intensifies. He thinks for a moment before putting his phone in his pocket. “I can take a hint,” he says to himself and hesitantly starts walking towards Stark Tower.

Philip inhales deeply before shoving the front doors of the tower open. As soon as he walks in, his nose wrinkles from the sheer amount of dust The entryway isn’t that bad, but 10 feet in any direction from the front door has a substantial layer of dust on it. Philip sees a trail of footprints towards a room that is behind the front desk. He decides he does not want to go that way in case whatever squatter made those prints is still here and is territorial. He dazedly walks across the foyer. He examines the furniture leftover from years ago set up as a sort of waiting area. He drifts until he finds himself in front of the elevator bank on the left side of the main floor. He presses one the buttons, and nothing happens. He looks and sees a finger-touch recognition keypad next to the elevator button.

“This is crazy,” he mumbles and puts his right index finger on the keypad. A green light drifts across the keypad as it scans his fingerprint and then the light above the elevator turns on and doors open. Philip gasps before looking around as if he’s gonna get caught.

“What the hell,” he whispers and steps onto the elevator. His eyes bug out of his skull when he sees that there’s over 50 floors of the tower. His fingers ghost over all the buttons before deciding at random to go to floor 30. The elevator quickly starts its ascent and Philip watches the numbers blink by until he reaches his destination and the doors open. He slowly walks out onto the floor and sees there’s a giant lounge area connected to a just as large kitchen and eating area. There’s hallways branching off from either side of the lounge area and lead to so many other rooms that Philip can’t even guess the purpose of. He heads into the lounge area and finds himself picking up and touching the random things around the room. 

He picks up the book,  _ Introduction into General Chemistry for the AP Exam _ , which is lying on the coffee table in front of the giant sectional. He flips open the cover and sees that it was last checked out by ‘Peter B. Parker.’

“Oh, you’re the kid that Tony Stark is looking for.” Philip puts the book back down before continuing his tour of the floor. He touches the gaming system left out by the massive flatscreen and runs his hands along the wall as he makes his way towards the kitchen. There’s picture frames scattered all across the walls with different photos in them. He examines a photo of Tony Stark and his wife and CEO, Pepper Potts. He moves on to another picture frame of a newspaper clipping declaring  _ The ‘Avengers’ are New York’s Heroes _ from back in 2012. The next frame has a selfie in it of the infamous intern, Peter, with Tony Stark helping Colonel Rhodes through what looks like physical therapy in the background. They’re all laughing and Tony Stark is holding up a peace sign with the hand that isn’t held out towards Colonel Rhodes.

Philip’s eyebrows rise. “Why does this feel familiar? It’s like a memory of a dream or something,” he states and finally tears his attention away from the wall and walks into the kitchen area. The kitchen has exactly what one would expect, which is just kitchen supplies. Philip still feels the need to take some of the pans out of cabinets to look at them. As he is setting one of saucepans back in the cabinet, it isn’t perfectly balanced and tumbles out of the cabinet while taking other pans down with it. Philip manages to catch 2 of the pans, but 2 still clatter to the floor in a big crash. He flinches and freezes for a minute as if somebody is going to come out of one of the other rooms on the floor to see where the noise came from. Philip breathes in and out a couple time before relaxing and placing all the pans back into the cabinet and heading down one of the hallways to look into the other rooms. 

Nobody is in the tower but him, so why is he so jumpy?

  
  


**Elsewhere in the Tower**

“Tony. It’s me...your intern. I’m so happy to find you after all these years.” The 30-year-old who’s trying to pretend he’s in his young twenties says monotonously while glancing down at a paper in his hands. Happy groans and slams his head on the table in front of them and Harley grits his teeth as he crosses out another name on the clipboard he’s holding.

“Yes. Thank you so much for your participation and for coming out here today. We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” Harley hastily stands and starts guiding Jack or whatever his name is out the door.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to give you any references or anything?” The guy questions as he reluctantly shuffles towards the door. He glances at Happy whose head is still on the table.

“Oh no, we have everything. We’ll be in touch!” Harley shoves him outside and shuts the door behind him before groaning aloud.

Happy chuckles, “How many is that? 50? 60? That guy could barely pass for someone in their thirties let alone how old the kid would be! He was also a ginger, Harley. A ginger. Pete was brunette and that would not change no matter how many years it’s been.” He gets up and stretches. 

Harley rubs his eyes and tries to come up with a response, which is difficult because Happy’s right. How have all 64 candidates been so bad? How is it possible that all across New York, not a single person could pass for Peter even for a moment? Harley came into this thinking that everything would be a sinch, but he’s losing hope the longer this goes on. He can tell that Happy is two seconds away from quitting and honestly, Harley can’t blame him.

“Now I know that it’s not looking good, but we still have time! Who knows, maybe our ‘Peter’ will walk through that door next.” He tries to muster up a smile, but fails spectacularly. Happy just shakes his head and leans over the table grab another cookie that Harley brought for the day after they almost starved yesterday during the auditions. Not only is Stark Tower abandoned, but Tony apparently saw fit to empty out all the kitchens for whatever reason. Harley opens his mouth to argue and convince Happy to stay a bit longer when he hears a crash from upstairs.

“Did you hear that?” He asks and looks at the ceiling.

“No,” Happy mumbles around a mouthful of cookie, but Harley’s already nervously pacing because he  _ knows _ he heard something. 

“I heard a crash upstairs, Happy. That’s not possible right? The only people who have access to the stairwells and elevators are people who are staffed by Stark currently. And all those people are no longer in New York.” Harley looks at Happy waiting for him to confirm, but he knows he’s right. It’s not possible someone would just be casually upstairs unless Stark or somebody sent them here for whatever reason. He grabs his jacket and shrugs it on. “We need to go check it out. You probably still have access to the system right?”

Happy breathes heavily before grabbing his jacket too. “We can see.” He shakes his head and Harley leads the way to the elevator.

“Harley, we’ve checked literally 20 floors. Are you sure you didn’t just imagine the noise? Maybe it was just the wind or something.” Happy gasps as he tries to catch his breath. They've been running around each floor for who knows how long, but the more they search for the source of the noise, the more certain Harley is that he heard something. They open the stairwell door to the 30th floor and Harley strides out. 

“Which floor is this one Happy?” He heads into a lounge-like area and starts looking behind the curtains and the couches.

“This floor is one of the ones Tony designed for the avengers when they stayed over. Don’t touch anything!” Happy grabs the back of Harley’s jacket and Harley normally would have kicked him or something, but the forceful stop to his progress makes him notice something.

“Do you see that Happy? That textbook has been moved! You can see the imprint in the dust of where it used to be! I told you somebody was here!” Harley exclaims and points at the coffee table. Happy’s eyebrows come together and he tries to think of a plausible reason for the difference in the dust pattern. “I bet you the person is in one of these rooms on this floor.” He steps past Happy and starts towards one of the hallways.

**Down the Hallway**

Philip, having seen a number of rooms that all look basically the same, makes his way into the last room in the hall. This one is unlike the others in that there’s actual pictures on the walls and it looks fairly lived in, if you ignore the dust. There's a wall full of polaroid pictures that are strung up haphazardly on a string. From the pictures alone, Philip can tell this room belonged to the intern that Tony Stark’s looking for. The pictures range from pictures of Peter alone, to him with Avengers, to him with some of his friends from school or something. The rest of the room is similarly just as obvious in figuring out who it belonged to because only a teenager would live in a room this messy. There’s books all around, tossed onto the floor, and the bed is unmade. There’s clothes hanging off of the desk chair and a homework assignment halfway finished on the desk itself. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” A voice calls out and Philip is stunned out of his reverie. He looks up to see 2 people in the doorway. He gasps and backs up into the picture wall. The younger guy with the shaggy dirty blond hair and blue eyes stomps forward, “Who are you and how did you get in he----” he trails off as he stares at Philip. Philip starts trying to inch his way along the wall when the other man, a much older guy with hair shorn close to his head and a frown that looks like it never leaves his face moves forward.

“Happy, do you see what I see.” The younger guy asks and gestures towards Philip.

“I am so sorry guys, I didn’t mean to break in here. I swear I wasn’t trying to steal anything! I was just curious. It’s like my besetting sin. I’ll get out here right now--” Philip rambles. Happy’s eyes widen as he listens to the stranger and finally really looks at him.

“Yes.” The man who must be Happy states concisely and the other kid nods.

“What? I’m sorry. I’ll just be going.” Philip starts towards the doorway and the younger guy stops him by throwing an arm out in front of him.

“My name’s Harley and this guy here is Happy. I know, totally inappropriate name. I’m sorry for startling you. What are you doing here?” Harley drawls and Philip refuses to let his knees shake at the sound of the southern dialect. Damn, southern accents always make him weak.

“My name’s Philip and I was on my way to an interview when I got the feeling to look in--. Hey what are you doing? Stop circling me, what were you, a vulture in another life?” Philip breaks off and turns around to stop Harley from looking him up and down. Harley stops and his lips curl up into a grin.

“A thousand apologies, Peter was it?” He winks and puts all the southern charm he can into that statement.

“It’s Philip.” Philip replies bluntly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just you look an awful lot like…” and he gestures towards the wall of Peter’s pictures. Philip looks up at the photos and blinks for a second. “Nevermind, Philip...is there a last name that goes with that?”

Philip sighs and puts a hand to his forehead. “This is gonna sound crazy. I don’t know my last name. I go by Philip Doe officially for papers and all that, but I don’t remember my past. I was found bleeding on the street when I was 17.” Philip looks at his feet as he fidgets. Nothing makes him feel more awkward than when he’s talking about his amnesia.

“And before then; before you were found?” Harley looks down at him and elbows Happy in the chest.

“Look, I know it’s weird. I have basically no memories before then.” Philip huffs and starts playing with the sleeve of his sweater. He begins trying to make his way towards the door again when Harley looks back at him.

“You know something that’s positively interesting? We’re actually going to Wakanda in a couple days. Y’know, the most advanced, technological civilization in the world? Rumor has it that they’re pretty good at bringing forgotten memories to the surface. Everybody knows how they helped the Winter Soldier. How would you like a free pass to go with us, sweetheart?” Harley puts his arm on the wall beside him leans back casually as if he was asking Philip to go to the movies and not halfway across the world. 

Philip bites his lip and furrows his brows like he’s solving a complex equation. And maybe he is because he has literally no idea what is going on and why 2 strangers are asking him if he wants to go to Wakanda of all places. “What?” he asks plainly.

“Yeah we have 3 tickets here on an all expenses paid trip to Wakanda. But, unfortunately, the third ticket is for him--Peter.” And Harley lazily points to the wall of pictures.

“Oh.” Philip says because that’s all he can say to something as absurd as believing that Peter is alive and going on a trip to Wakanda with these guys. Happy and Harley must be a couple tools short of a tool box.

“We are going to reunite Peter with Tony Stark and what’s left of the Avengers.” Happy finally speaks after letting Harley do all the talking. “Peter was Tony’s personal intern and worked closely with him and all the Avengers.” The guys start dragging Philip out of the room back down the hallway towards the lounge.

“You do kind of resemble him.” Harley points out.

“The same unruly brown curls.” Happy states.

“The bambi eyes everyone talks about.” Harley lists.

“The scrawny build.”

“The same age, the same physical type.” At this point, Philip’s head is going back and forth between the 2 men as if he’s watching a tennis match. It then finally clicks in his brain.

“Are you saying that you think I am Mr. Stark’s intern?” Philip stops in place refusing to be dragged out further than the sectional couch in the lounge. Happy falters when Philip says ‘Mr. Stark,’ but Philip chooses to ignore it. Happy and Harley glance at each other before nodding. 

“All I’m trying to tell you is that I’ve seen guys from all over the state of New York and none of them resemble Peter more than you do.” Harley’s eyes practically burn Philip when they make eye contact and Philip shivers.

“I thought you guys were crazy when you started talking about Wakanda, but now I know you guys are insane.” Philip throws up his hands and moves to get out of the same room as them.

Harley quickly strides back in front of Philip. “Why? You don’t remember what happened to you.” Philip’s cheeks color.

“No one knows what happened to him.” Happy gestures towards the selfie picture on the wall.

“You want to get your memory back and the only place to do that is in Wakanda,” Harley continues.

Happy picks up where he left off, “Peter’s only sort of family is in Wakanda.”

“You ever thought of the possibility?” Harley places his hand on Philip’s shoulder and starts leading him to the selfie that Happy gestured to.

“That I could be his intern?” Philip stares at the photo. He almost misses when both men nod on either side of him. “I mean it’s kinda hard to imagine when I’ve been alone for all these years bouncing from dingy apartment to dingy apartment. But sure, I guess every abandoned kid wishes they had people looking for them like Mr. Stark is looking for his intern.” Philip looks at Peter in the photo, at the grin he has that practically lights up the room. He doesn’t remember a time in his life he was ever that happy.

“Well, we really wish we could help ya darling, but the third ticket is for Peter Parker. Good luck with your life.” Harley reaches out and grabs Happy and they start sauntering towards the elevator bank. Philip feels like his brain was put through mental gymnastics from the past half hour or so. He keeps looking at the picture on the wall and can’t help but let his fingers wipe the dust off of Tony’s face. He then makes an instantaneous decision.

“Harley, Happy, wait!” Philip races to catch them before the elevator doors close. Harley puts his arm out to stop the elevator doors and has a smug look on his face, so Philip chooses to look at Happy as he says his next bit. “If I don’t know who I am, then who’s to say that I’m not Mr. Stark’s intern or whatever he is. And if I’m not Peter, then Mr. Stark will know right away and it’s all just a simple mistake, right?”

“But if you are Peter then you’ll finally know who you are and where you’re supposed to be.” Happy smiles much more genuinely than Harley and Philip nods enthusiastically.

“Either way, it gets you to Wakanda, darling.” Harley says sweetly and sticks out his hand.

“Right!” Philip grabs his hand and ignores the spark of the electricity that he feels when they connect as they shake. Philip might’ve been a bit too excited and forgot to hold back more of his strength because Harley grunts and massages his palm after the handshake. “I can’t believe I’m going to Wakanda!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more exposition. This chapter was hefty, sorry about that. Feel free to leave your feedback bc I have no idea what I'm doing.


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